


Wins and Losses

by Mika-chan (mikarin)



Series: Waver [4]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikarin/pseuds/Mika-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens incredibly fast. One moment he's walking across the street and the next, he's being swept off his feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set some time after Waver. This is completely written and just requires some editing. Enjoy!

“Fish balls, glass noodles, mushrooms—”

“ _Golden rod_ mushrooms!” Daisuke corrects him with a shout, and Takeru rolls his eyes.

“Okay, okay. _Golden rod_ mushrooms,” he parrots back patiently, cellphone held to his ear as he walks around a pair of lost tourists. “Anything else?” His question is met with a negative and he breathes out a sigh of relief. “Okay,” he says, stopping at the end of the sidewalk and waiting patiently for the Don’t Walk signal to change. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Later! Love you!”

His stomach flutters warmly at the words. He’s still not used to hearing them. No matter how often Ken and Daisuke are making it a point to say it to him every day. He ducks his head and mumbles back a ‘love you, too.’

“What? What was that? I can’t hear you,” Daisuke teases him, voice obnoxiously loud, and Takeru huffs.

“I love you too,” he articulates each word in a semi-irritated manner, but it fools no one—especially his boyfriend who he’s sure has a smug look plastered on his face.

“Cool,” Daisuke says before he hangs up. Takeru stares at his phone and just shakes his head. He pockets his phone, sees that he has the Walk signal, and takes a step off the curb.

It happens incredibly fast.

One moment he's walking across the street—within the crosswalk thank you very much—and the next, he's being swept off his feet.

The world tilts.

He thinks he hears the crunch of glass, but everything's spinning and spinning, and his head cracks on the unforgiving ground and he's out.

He's not sure how much time has passed when he blinks his eyes open to the blue sky above, but there certainly are a lot more people around him now than before. He sees a girl crying hysterically into her phone, which only intensifies when her eyes rise unintentionally to meet his. He’s confused and he blinks. Once. Twice, and then a hand is waving in front of his eyes and draws his attention away. His eyes roam from the hand and up the arm of an older man who is kneeling beside him. The man’s mouth is moving, but he can't make out what the other is saying. His ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton; his head aches; and his leg really, really _hurts_. He angles his head up to see why, but the man holds him still, grimly shaking his head and mouths "don't." It scares him. Enough that his chest begins to heave as his breath hastens.

He wants to know what's going on.

And like a pin popping a balloon, he can suddenly hear everything: the chatter from the people milling about; cars honking; engines idling; sirens in the distance. It's a little overwhelming to say the least.

"Hey, hey, hey.” A voice breaks into his panic, and he focuses back to the man hovering above him; his face is etched with concern. “It's going to be all right. Take a deep breath, son. Come on."

He doesn't know who this man is, but he finds himself doing as he's told. He inhales one shuddering breath after another, taking in the details of this stranger as he does so to distract himself from what is going on around him.

There are wrinkles around the corners of the man’s brown eyes and dark shadows beneath them that speak of long nights at the office. His tie is partially undone and his linen shirt is wrinkled, but despite his somewhat untidy appearance, his hands are steady. His voice is calm. It reminds him so much of his dad that a familiar ache blooms in his chest.

Something must change in his expression because the man's forehead immediately crinkles in worry. "Hey, what's this now? You're going to be okay," he says. "What's your name?"

His breath hitches as he responds. "T-Takeru."

"Takeru, you're going to be okay,” he repeats. “The ambulance is on its way."

"My leg really hurts," he confesses, and the man grimaces.

"It's likely broken, Takeru."

"Broken?" he breathes out in disbelief. "Is. Is it bad? I have a paper due this week and class and  _work_ .” His words spill out in a rush as panic builds once more. He tries to push himself upright and in the process finally gets to _see_ , and he really wishes he didn't because his bones are supposed to be  _inside_ his body—not out—and he swallows convulsively around bile that threatens to make an appearance.

"Stop! Takeru, you mustn't move so much. You've hit your head as well." He lets himself be manhandled back onto the bundle of cloth he is apparently resting his head on and tries his best not to throw up.

"Everything will be fine," the man assures him, but unbidden thoughts of his responsibilities race across his mind to contradict the platitude. Like how he's on scholarship and _has_ to maintain his grades or else he'll be kicked out; and how he can possibly handle a hospital bill on top of all his other expenses that he is barely managing now. Takeru wishes he can just start the day over where he decides not to go grocery shopping.

"Takeru, is there someone we can call? Your Mom? Your Dad?"

The question although well intentioned is anything but, and Takeru feels hollowed out as he shakes his head in negative. His parents haven’t spoken to him in over a year. He doesn’t think he could take it if they decided not to come once they've heard what's happened to him. “Daisuke," he decides after a moment. Daisuke will be able to handle the news. He’ll make sure that Ken will be okay too. "Call Daisuke. Please."

The man nods as he fumbles for his phone. "All right. Tell me his number." He does, but isn't too optimistic that his boyfriend will pick up considering he was walking into class just as he hung up on him. His hunch is validated when he sees the man shake his head at him before starting to leave a voice mail. Takeru waves his hand to get the man’s attention and the other holds the phone by his ear.

“Hey,” Takeru says and follows up immediately with, “I’m okay. Well, my leg is definitely broken, but um, that’s all. I think.” There’s a rush of footsteps and he’s surrounded by men in the same red-colored uniforms. “Oh. Paramedics are here. I’ll see you at the hospital?” He’s not sure why his sentence ends in a question, but before he can say anything, the phone is being pulled away from him. It’s just as well. He’s feeling dizzy and nauseous, and once more wishes he could start the day all over again.

oOo

Neither Daisuke nor Ken make it to the hospital in time before he's taken into surgery. They are, however, the first faces he sees as he wakes up in the recovery room.

Ken looks completely drawn out, and Daisuke doesn't look much better. The latter has his arm wrapped securely around Ken's shoulder, while Ken holds Takeru’s hand.

"Hi," he croaks out and then, "Sorry."

"Why are _you_ sorry?" Daisuke asks incredulously. "If anyone should be sorry, it's that girl who ran that red light!"

Takeru blinks groggily, takes in Ken's silence and how Daisuke is literally vibrating in place.

"I'm okay," he directs this to Ken because he knows what the other must be thinking, and he needs to assure him that he’s okay. Ken merely squeezes his hand in response.

"How are you feeling?" Daisuke asks, glancing worriedly at his right leg and then to his head. Takeru only becomes aware of some sort of band around his head when his partner mentions it, but other than that, he doesn't really feel much. He relays this information, and Daisuke cracks a smile, albeit a strained one.

"They have you on the good stuff," Daisuke informs him, and Takeru's lips twitch in good humor. He's tired though, can feel sleep tugging at his consciousness, but he needs to get that haunted look off of Ken's face.

"I'm okay, Ken," he reassures the other again and turns his hand so he can curl his fingers around the other’s. "I'm okay."

Ken bites his lower lip, blinks rapidly, but finally nods.

"I'm okay," Takeru mumbles once more finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open any longer. "I'm okay."

He feels a hand cup the top of his head and a faint pressure against his temple.

"You're okay," he hears Ken say and falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He sleeps mostly, thinks he may have woken up a few times, but it’s never very long before he falls asleep again. It’s disorienting. People come and go, but Ken and Daisuke are a steady, reassuring presence at his bedside.

When he wakes next and is lucid enough to remember it, his leg is throbbing in time to the pounding in his head, and he instinctively calls out for the one person who’s always been there for him when he’s hurting. The one who stayed with him following a nightmare that startled him awake and left him shaking. The one who held him when things got terribly scary in the Digital World.

When his vision clears and reality takes hold, he remembers that his brother isn't going to be there for him anymore. Takeru swallows thinking perhaps the action could take back his words, but Ken and Daisuke are already sharing piteous looks so knows it's pointless to hide. Nevertheless, he still turns his head away in embarrassment.

Daisuke grasps his chin and gently guides his face back towards them. "Hey. None of that. Do you recognize us?"

Takeru squints in confusion at the odd question, and Ken immediately leans forward to peer at him worriedly. "Takeru?"

“We were supposed to ask _him_ what his name is, Ken. Now you just gave it away.

“We were _supposed_ to page the doctor the moment he woke up, _Daisuke_ , and it hardly matters now since you just answered your own question!”

The familiar bickering is enough to wipe his dark thoughts of Yamato away, and he soon finds himself chuckling lightly at his two lovers. “Ken Ichijouji,” he interjects, quickly capturing the two’s attentions. He tips his head towards the violet-haired man and then redirects his attention to the other. “Daisuke Motomiya.”

“And?” Ken prompts, and Takeru responds dutifully. “Takeru Takaishi. The year is 2001, and he Prime Minister is Junichirou Koizumi. Can I have some water now?"

Daisuke sags in relief, while Ken lowers his head onto Takeru’s arm, equally as relieved. Barely a few seconds pass before Ken’s shoulders start to shake and Takeru is wracked with guilt.

“Ken. Ken-chan. Please don’t cry.” He tries to maneuver his arm around the other, but Ken is gripping it somewhat fierce. So, Takeru merely repeats his lover’s name over and over; Daisuke attempts to calm him down as well, but Ken appears inconsolable. An itch soon develops in his throat that triggers a round of coughing. It sends a sharp stab of pain in his chest that causes his entire body to tense up.  
Ken snaps his head up, wiping the wetness from his eyes. “Takeru?”

“Ow.” He coughs again. “Ow.” A glass of water with a straw is swiftly presented to him and he takes a sip. The cool liquid instantly soothes the tickle in his throat, but it takes a few more minutes before he’s relaxed against his bed once more. In this time, the nurse arrives and coaches him through some breathing exercises and shortly after that the doctor is there informing him of his injuries and to discuss his recovery. It’s a whirlwind of information that leaves him exhausted and most of all worried.

“What’s the matter?” Ken asks once they’re alone, thumb running back and forth across his knuckles. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need more medication?”

Takeru shakes his head. “No, I.” His eyes scan the room and then to the cast on the lower part of his leg. He's still trying to absorb how long it will be before he is up and about again without any aid; how many days of school he’ll be missing; how many days of _work_. The doctor mentioned he’ll likely need physical therapy too. Will the driver be paying for that, or will he have to pay for it upfront? He doesn't have money for it if it’s the latter, or any of this for the matter.

“Takeru?”

His eyes refocus back on Ken, then to Daisuke, and he fumbles with what to say. “The doctor said it could be weeks before I can move on my own. What about my classes and my job? I can’t afford to miss any of it.”

Daisuke frowns. “Takeru, you’ve been in here for barely a day and you’re already worried about all that stuff. _Relax_.”

“‘All that stuff’ is important, Daisuke,” Takeru retorts, fingers clenching the edge of his blanket. “I _can’t_ ignore it, and you know that.”

Daisuke runs a frustrated hand across his face. “Ken, talk some sense into this stubborn idiot.”

Ken shoots him a disproving look before turning a sympathetic one to the blonde. “Takeru, Daisuke is right. Nuh-uh.” He raises a finger, signaling to the other not to speak just yet. “You need to focus on your recovery for at least the next few days. Daisuke and I will contact your professors and let them know what’s happened, and I’m sure Mrs. Yukimura will allow you to work behind the checkout desk until you’re well again.” Ken carefully untangles his fingers from his blanket and covers them with his own. “Please, Takeru. Rest. Everything will work out.”

Takeru lowers his eyes, worrying his lower lip. “But what about all this?” he questions, sweeping his free hand across the room. “I don’t have any insurance to cover all this.”

“Uh, you were hit by the car, remember?" Daisuke graciously reminds him and then starts ticking each of his points off his fingers. "You had the light. You were walking within the crosswalk. You were the victim. So, the way I see it, that girl will be paying for all of this.”

Takeru expels a relieved breath. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Daisuke says with a smug smile. “Besides, even if she didn’t, Yama—er.”

Takeru’s head snaps up pinning Daisuke with a look. “What?”

“Nothing,” Daisuke replies in a rush and studiously avoids looking at him. “The point is she’ll be covering everything. The police even said so. Oh, you need to speak with them too. Give them your…uh…statement,” he finishes lamely under Takeru’s suspicious stare. A few beats of silence pass, with Ken observing the standoff warily. Daisuke's the first one to break. “Stop looking at me like that,” he demands with a scowl.

Takeru is unmoved by the shout. “Daisuke.”

Daisuke folds his arms defensively across his chest. “What?”

“Daisuke, did. Did you call Yamato?” Takeru stammers in disbelief and at once feels his stomach bottom out because if Daisuke did, where is he? Did. Did he decide not to come? Even when he knew he was hurt?

“No,” Daisuke denies vehemently. “I didn’t. I _wouldn’t_.”

“Oh,” Takeru replies faintly, uncertain if it is relief he feels or disappointment. “Right. Um.”

“Taichi did,” Ken informs him, and Takeru feels his heart skip a beat. He looks at Ken and waits, hoping there’s more. He isn’t disappointed. “He was here.”

“Oh,” Takeru stutters out and that faint hope that has been growing steadily dimmer by the day suddenly sparks back to life. Because if Yamato came to see him, then that meant he still cared, right? But... “Is. Is he still here?” Takeru asks, craning his neck around them in the off chance he missed seeing his brother outside. All he sees though are empty beds and an orderly walking by his room door.

“I told him to leave,” Daisuke reveals bluntly.

Takeru gapes at him incomprehensibly. “What? _Why_?”

"I told him that if he couldn't find it in himself to accept us, then you'd be better off not having him here at all,” Daisuke explains, voice growing steadily more adamant as if bracing for a fight. “That he'd only hurt you all over again if he sees you. I couldn't let him do it. You _can't_ be mad at me for that."

Takeru opens and closes his mouth several times, unsure of how to respond, but knowing he needs to. "But—"

"No," Daisuke cuts him off and rises to his feet. "I _know_ you, Takeru. You'll think he's changed since he came to see you, or that he's maybe willing to, but he hasn't changed his mind. He even said so when I called him out on it.” Takeru's eyes immediately dart to Ken for confirmation and the other nods his head reluctantly, but no less definitively. He turns back to Daisuke when the other nudges him for attention. “Don't put yourself through this again, Takeru,” he pleads. “ _Nothing_ has changed."

Takeru swallows several times past the sudden lump in his throat. He can't ignore the plea in his lover's voice, knows he only means to protect Takeru's heart, but even so, he can’t help but resent him for it just a little bit. After all, how could Daisuke be so sure? Maybe this accident could have been the catalyst that Yamato needed to see that he was still the same person. Maybe they could go back to how things were. Then again, what did it really say about his brother if a hospital stay was what made him come to his senses? Either way, Takeru knows he wouldn't come away unscathed. The pounding in his head grows with all these thoughts and it makes him feel too entirely worn out.

“I'm tired,” he finally settles on saying, and Daisuke's face falls.

“Takeru…”

“No, really, I.” He stares up at the white ceiling. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“You’ve had a long day,” Ken speaks up, gently ushering Daisuke aside, and starts to tuck the blanket around Takeru's shoulders. “Let’s shelve this for now, all right?”

"I'm not sorry," Daisuke insists stubbornly, glancing to Ken for support, but the other clearly doesn't want this conversation to continue. So, he grudgingly keeps his mouth shut and glares down at his shoes.

Takeru knows Daisuke’s not sorry, but it doesn't make him any less tired. "I know, Dais," he says in an attempt to placate him and follows with, “Stay until I fall asleep?”

Daisuke frowns, but in the end rolls his eyes and settles back noisily into his chair. “Of course. Idiot.”

“Stop insulting the patient, Daisuke,” Ken admonishes, but it lacks any bite.

“Yes, dear," comes the put upon reply, and Takeru smiles faintly, glad that they're both here.

oOo

Hikari stops by the next day, chatting with him animatedly in a way that’s familiar and comforting. It gets his mind off of the pain in his leg for a while and gives Ken and Daisuke the opportunity to head home for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

He must have fallen asleep because when he next blinks his eyes open, Hikari isn’t there extolling the photojournalism course she’s taking. Rather, his brother is seated beside his bed, hands clasped in his lap and a deep furrow in his brow.

He imagines he's hallucinating, or that perhaps he is still dreaming, but Yamato doesn’t fade. He remains seated, clad in a black short sleeve button-down top and a pair of khaki pants. He looks tired. Older.

Takeru doesn't get his hopes up, Daisuke's words echoing loudly in his head. Instead, he braces himself and tries his best to build up walls to protect him from whatever reasons his brother has concocted to show up now.

"Onii-chan."

Yamato jerks his head up in surprise. His brother’s eyes were always so expressive. So much so, that Takeru always found it easy to pick out his moods.

Yamato looks relieved, but hesitant. He doesn’t say anything for quite some time. Takeru doesn’t either, but there isn’t much more he _can_ say. He’s told Yamato everything; it’s up to him now.

“How are you feeling?” his brother finally asks, and Takeru supposes that is as good a start as any.

“Like I was hit by a car,” he responds dryly, and Yamato gives him a look; the one that never fails to make him feel two inches tall, even now. “Okay,” he replies honestly this time. "Considering.”

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

Takeru looks away. Yes, he thinks, but it’s not entirely due to the accident. He doesn't say this out loud though. “Not really. The doctors gave me painkillers. My leg throbs, but not as bad as before. It’s hard to take deep breaths though.” He brushes his fingers lightly over his chest. “Bruised ribs.”

Yamato grimaces in sympathy. “I see,” he says and then falls silent. The silence lasts even longer this time and is no less uncomfortable. Takeru can’t fathom why his brother is even bothering to stay if he won’t say anything.

“Onii-chan, why are you here?” he asks, impatience seeping into this voice.

His brother looks at him in shock. “Because you’re my little brother and you’re hurt and in the hospital,” he replies as if he can't believe he's being asked this question. It makes Takeru's blood boil.

“I’ve been hurt for the past _year_ , Onii-chan. Where were you _then_?”

Yamato is taken completely off guard and sputters, “That’s. That’s not—”

Takeru cuts him off. “That’s not the same? Why not? It _hurt_ , Onii-chan. Every time I thought of you. Of Mama. Of Tou-chan. You _left_ me,” he snaps in accusation, and Yamato’s head jerks back as if he’s been sucker punched.

“Takeru…I…” Yamato trails off not knowing what to say.

Takeru knows he’s breathing too fast, but he can’t control it—can’t control the anger that’s boiling over and causing his entire body to shake. His chest hurts. His head _aches_. "Why are you _here_ , Onii-chan?”

“I needed to see you, all right!” Yamato shouts just as desperate to be heard. “When Taichi told me you were in an accident, I was out of my mind with worry. It didn’t matter that the doctors said you would be fine. I had to see you for myself.”

“And then what?” Takeru demanded. “Will you just leave again? Pretend like I don’t exist like you have for the last year? You’re so _selfish_ , Onii-chan. Daisuke was right. You shouldn’t have come. I don’t want to see you if everything will just be as it was!” His breath is coming out ragged now and something is wailing loudly.

Yamato is suddenly hovering over him, hands braced on his shoulders, and Takeru can barely keep his eyes focused on him. “Takeru!”

He can’t breathe. His chest feels tight and wrong and he can’t breathe. “It hurts,” he murmurs, hands clumsily grasping his brother’s forearms. “It hurts, Onii-chan…”

“It’s okay, Takeru,” Yamato soothes, but he can hardly hear him now. He whines when Yamato lets him go and foreign hands are pressing him back into his bed. It feels as if he’s floating adrift and he hurts and he’s scared and he wants his brother.

“I’m here, Takeru.” The familiar voice anchors him, and he reaches out blindly for something to hold onto and is met with a reassuring grip. “Calm down, Takeru. The doctors are going to help you.”

“Stay,” he begs, “Don’t leave me, _please_.” He feels a cool rush down his arm and feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into the black.

“I won’t. I _won’t_. I _promise_.”

And Takeru can’t do anything else but believe him.


	3. Chapter 3

So, of course when he wakes next and only sees Ken and Daisuke napping in his room, the fissure in his heart that was steadily coming together cracks wide open. He feels like he’s suddenly run a marathon and can’t catch his breath. Its wretched, the sounds coming out of his mouth. Even more so because he tries to stay quiet because his lovers do not need to see him have another breakdown.

He isn’t quiet enough because the sound rouses Ken and Daisuke in an instant.

“Takeru?”

“What’s wrong?”

Takeru shakes his head and presses the heels of his hands above his eyelids, but tears still manage to squeeze past and slide down the sides of his face. He can’t focus on his lovers’ questions. Only knows that Yamato _lied_. He can’t take it. It shouldn’t hurt this much.

His hands are gently pried to the side until a blurry version of Ken appears above him. “Keru, calm down,” he says soothingly. “Take a few deep breaths, okay? What’s the matter?”

He attempts to do just that, but his breath hitches and he fumbles for something to hold on to. Ken meets him halfway, wrapping his arms around the other and holding him as tightly as he dares without harming him.

“He promised,” Takeru manages between breaths, hands clutching the back of Ken’s shirt. “He said he would stay. He _promised_.”

“ _Who_ , Keru?”

Takeru hiccups. “Onii-chan.”

There’s a poignant silence, and then, “You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me!”

And then there’s the sound of rapid footsteps, the door opening, and more distant shouting. Takeru ignores it all, clings to Ken, and only stops to listen when Ken gives him a little shake.

“Are you listening, Keru? Yamato’s still here. He didn’t leave.”

Takeru lifts his head from Ken’s chest. He sniffs, vision still blurry. “What?”

Ken shares an equally exasperated and fond look with him. “Yamato’s still here,” he repeats, enunciating each word to ensure he's understood. He proceeds to use his shirtsleeve to gently wipe his face. "Daisuke banished him to the food court when he saw how upset he made you.”

“He is?” he questions uncertainly and then frowns. “He did?”

Ken smiles tiredly. “Yes and yes.”

Takeru feels his face flush with embarrassment. “Oh.”

Ken huffs out a quiet laugh. He then ruffles his hair before carefully easing Takeru back onto his bed and pushes a button that raises the top half of it so he’s not lying entirely flat on his back. Only then does Ken settle back down on his chair. He watches as the other pulls his satchel onto his lap and starts rummaging through it. Soon a tissue is being handed to him. “You okay?” Ken asks.

Takeru bobs his head as he blows his nose as carefully as he can without upsetting his ribs more. “Sorry," he murmurs.

"You don't have to apologize, Keru."

He does though. Because he sees the toll this is taking on Ken; how the man is trying his best to hold it together (for him) and all Takeru’s doing is making him even more worried. Ken looks utterly exhausted. The bruises beneath his eyes are pronounced, and whenever the other is not looking at Takeru directly, his eyes are moving continuously from his injured leg to the bandage on his forehead as if to ascertain for himself that he is still here. He didn’t get a chance to speak with Ken before the doctors interrupted them earlier. So, takes the chance now that they’re alone.

"Ken, I’m really okay. You know that, right?" Takeru asks, and Ken’s eyes immediately fall down to his lap, his right thumb starting to rub repeatedly over his left forefinger in a familiar nervous habit.

"I was so scared, Takeru," he says quietly. He seems to realize what his hands are doing and forcibly separates them. He lifts his right hand to scrape his fingers through his hair. "When Daisuke came to tell me what happened, I couldn't help but think the worse. It didn't even matter what Daisuke actually said." Ken squeezes his eyes shut. "All I could think about was Osamu and how this couldn't be happening. Not again. How could. How could fate be so _cruel_?"

Ken looks completely devastated, fingers knotting into his hair, and Takeru can't help but blurt out another apology. Ken chokes out a wet laugh, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. "Stop apologizing, Takeru. It's not your fault."

"I know, but I can't help but feel like it is," he replies with a heavy heart.

Ken extends his hand to grip Takeru's arm and looks at him pointedly. "Just. Get better, all right? I’ll be fine.” He pauses. Then jokes, “And maybe wait a few seconds before you step off the curb next time, okay?"

Takeru smiles wryly. "Okay."

There's a shout of 'no running' before both Yamato and Daisuke are barreling into the room. The noise causes both men to start.

"Takeru," Yamato breathes, eyes scanning him up and down in worry, and Takeru is suddenly unsure if he wants to see the other despite how he was feeling earlier. His shoulders hunch down unconsciously, and he reflexively holds on to Ken's hand for dear life.

"If you don't want to see him, Keru, just give the word," Ken speaks to him softly, and Takeru feels comforted at the out his lover provides. Still, he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t hear Yamato out now. Even if Yamato only stayed out of guilt. Even if he tells him exactly what Daisuke had said he did. Even if he's hurt again, if there was even the slightest chance that Takeru could have his family back again, he was always going to take it.

"Takeru?" Yamato repeats uncertainly, only a few steps into the room, but doesn’t move any closer. Daisuke scowls as he shoulders his way past the older man and hovers protectively beside Takeru’s bed. Ken remains seated, but his body language makes it clear that he's ready to defend his lover as well if necessary. Seeing how much he's cared for gives Takeru the courage to do what he needs to.

"Ken. Daisuke." Both turn to look at him. "Can you give me a few minutes with nii-chan?"

Daisuke's eyes flash. "You have to be out of your mind! There is no way in _hell_ I am leaving him alone with you again!"

Although Daisuke is shouting, Takeru can hear the underlying fear and worry beneath the words. It doesn't change his mind though, and he thinks perhaps he is just as selfish as he accused his brother of earlier today.

"Daisuke, _please_ , just a few minutes. This is important to me."

"I know it is," Daisuke says, palms flat on this bed and leaning forward so only he and Ken can hear, "but who is it that always has to come in and pick up the pieces, huh? How many times do we have to see him hurt you? Do you think we aren't affected as much as you are? Why can't you just let this _go_?"

Takeru stares at Daisuke as if he's looking at a stranger and not his boyfriend of two years. "If you know me at all, you know why," he replies. "How can you even ask me that?" He looks to Ken, but sees that he's mirroring Daisuke's stance, and all at once he's filled with doubt. "I'm not helpless," he says, anger building. "I'll take full responsibility for what happens. You, you don't need to pick up any _pieces_." He spits the last word out as if he's eaten something foul and glares stubbornly down at his folded arms. He doesn't need either of them to do anything. He'll be fine. 

Fingers tilt his chin up until he's forced to look straight at Daisuke. He doesn't think he's ever seen Daisuke wear such a hurt expression before. It drains all the anger out of him in one fell swoop.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Daisuke says sadly. "You still don't get how much we love you. How we'll always be there for you." Daisuke drops his hand, takes a step back, and turns away. "Do what you want," he mutters bitterly over his shoulder and stalks out of the room.

Takeru is stunned, not knowing how this conversation had taken this turn. "Daisuke!" he cries after him, but the other doesn't stop. Dread unlike any another floods his entire system and all he wants to do at this moment is get up and chase after him—wants to tell him that isn't true at all, but he can't do anything. Not with his leg as it is.

So, he turns desperate eyes to Ken, who doesn't look very happy either. "I'll go talk to him," he says, but that isn't enough.

"Tell him I do know, Ken. I _do_. I love you both. I just," he glances to Yamato, who is still standing awkwardly in the room before turning back to the other. "Please understand why I have to do this."

"I do understand, Takeru," Ken replies, eyes sad. "We both do. Just. Be careful, okay? And remember, we'll be here for you whatever happens."

Takeru nods and after giving his hand one last squeeze, Ken leaves the room too. Takeru wipes his eyes tiredly with the back of his hand before looking at his brother who is still standing awkwardly in place.

"Do you want me to leave?" Yamato asks and Takeru chokes out a laugh.

"No," he replies. The "never" goes unsaid, but it seems Yamato hears it clearly, which propels the other into the room completely. He stops beside his bed and after a moment's hesitation takes the seat Ken recently occupied. This close, Takeru sees a bruise coloring Yamato's right cheekbone that he hadn't noticed earlier. His brother must notice the attention as he self-consciously brushes the mark with his fingertips.

"Daisuke," he responds to his unasked question. "We almost got kicked out because of it."

Takeru worries his lower lip, trying to recall if Daisuke showed any visible sign of injury, but can't remember. "Did you..."

Yamato shakes his head. "No. I was the only casualty. It's fine. I think if our positions were reversed, I would have reacted the same."

The last statement makes his heart flutter in his chest and no matter how hard he tries, he can't suppress the thought that maybe Yamato is coming around.

Yamato lowers his hand to his lap and leans forward on his elbows. "I'm sorry," he says immediately, eyes intent, and apparently more prepared to talk now than he was before. “I’m sorry my being here is causing you so many problems with Daisuke,” he continues with a frown. “I’m sorry my being here caused you to have an attack earlier.” Yamato lowers his eyes to his hands and Takeru unintentionally holds his breath.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the brother you deserve. I’m sorry I hurt you so badly.” He balls his hands into fists and bows his head. “I’m so _sorry_ , Takeru.”

Takeru stares at the top of his brother’s head with wide eyes. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing. He’s imagined this conversation so many times in the past. Over and over again, but it doesn’t seem real now that it’s happening. He wants to let the joy that’s simmering just beneath the surface to spill over, but he hesitates.

It’s funny how Daisuke of all people is his voice of reason now.

“...And?” he says into the silence, and Yamato snaps his head up at the word. He looks at Takeru questioningly. “...Does that mean...Do you accept me? Accept _us_?” he asks haltingly.

Yamato doesn’t answer immediately, and Takeru feels the knots in his stomach coil tighter.

“I didn’t understand it when you first told me,” Yamato finally admits. “I know I didn’t even try to understand, but I thought Ken and Daisuke were just bored and needed something different and that something was _you_. That when they realized it wouldn’t work, _you_ would get hurt in the end.” Yamato laughs hollowly, fingers rubbing his forehead. “But it was me doing that, wasn’t it? Hurting you this entire time.”

“They _wouldn’t_ ,” Takeru stresses incredulously, quick to defend his boyfriends. “You’ve known them for _years_. Why would you even _think_ that?”

“I’m biased when it comes to _you_ , Takeru,” Yamato explains, and Takeru supposes he can understand that given how overprotective his brother could be when he was younger. “But seeing them these past few days,” he continues. “How fiercely Daisuke defended you in the waiting room; how worried Ken has been; how long you’ve been together...I’m...I’m starting to understand.”

Takeru allows himself to feel it now. Hope. Hope that he’s getting part of his family back.

“Do you mean it?” Takeru asks faintly, afraid if he speaks any louder it’ll shatter this fragile reality. Yamato immediately leans forward and grasps his hand.

“Yes,” he insists earnestly. “I’m sorry, Takeru. Can you forgive me? I’ve been so stupid. I’m so _sorry_.”

Takeru blinks rapidly at him, words stuck behind the lump in his throat. He thinks he’s done enough crying these last few months—his lifetime really—but happy tears don’t count, right? Takeru offers a wobbly smile, and Yamato beams back in obvious relief. He rises from his seat and gives him a careful hug.

Takeru leans into the embrace, settles his forehead against his brother’s shoulder in an achingly familiar action that loosens the last knot he feels in his stomach. He doesn’t forgive Yamato completely just yet, but this is a start. A really, really good one.

He thinks that maybe, maybe everything would finally be okay now.

oOo

“I need a break.”

Daisuke doesn’t look at him as he says this, but he doesn’t need to. The words still feel like a punch in the gut with or without eye contact.

“I don’t think I can be in a relationship with someone who isn’t all in,” he continues. “I get it, Takeru. I do. I get how messed up you got after your family abandoned you; how you feel like you need to protect yourself, but shutting out the ones who are sticking around? People who love you _so much._ I. I don’t know. I need to think.”

Daisuke isn’t fidgeting as he speaks. It’s a telltale sign regarding how serious he is. Takeru feels surprisingly calm. He really can’t bring himself to be surprised that this is happening. Everything Daisuke has said is true.

Still. It really, really _hurts._

“I understand,” he says, and Daisuke finally lifts his eyes to look at him directly.

“You do?”

Takeru nods reluctantly. “Yeah.” His fingers tangle with the edges of his blanket, and he forces himself to let go. “I’m sorry. I’m. I’m just sorry. And I love you. I really, really do.”

Daisuke smiles sadly. “Ditto.”

He slowly pushes himself out of his seat and after a moment’s hesitation, surprises Takeru with a kiss to his temple. He lingers there for a few beats before pulling back and leaving the room.

Takeru watches him go and just breathes.

oOo

“Do you have your prescription?”

Takeru waves the slip of paper he’s holding in response. Ken hums his approval, walking in step with his wheelchair that’s steadily making its way toward the hospital exit.

It’s been three days since Yamato apologized and three days since Daisuke left. Ken told him that Daisuke’s been crashing at his sister’s and will be for the time being. It doesn’t get much more serious than that if Daisuke is voluntarily spending time with Jun.

Ken doesn’t seem too bothered by Daisuke’s absence; he honestly feels that Daisuke just needs some space and will be back soon enough. Takeru doesn’t feel it’s his place to have any expectations of Daisuke. He just wants a second chance to show Daisuke how much he really does matter to him.

The automatic doors slide apart on their approach and a wall of heat smacks him in the face as they leave the controlled environment of the building.

“I hope nii-chan’s air conditioner is working,” Takeru says, looking around and trying to spot his brother’s van. Ken sees it first and points it out to the orderly with his free hand that isn’t holding his crutches. The orderly carefully steers Takeru down the ramp and the short distance to Yamato’s beat-up-has-seen-better-days white van. Not a second later does the van door slide open and Taichi hops out, propping the door open with one hand.

Taichi is sporting a solid blue tee with lightly scuffed up tan shorts. His feet are covered in his trademark large white and blue sneakers and his smile is wide and open. Takeru feels immediately invigorated by the other’s upbeat energy.

“Taichi,” Takeru says in surprise, his lips curving into a smile. “You didn’t have to come.”

Taichi dismisses the statement with a flap of his hand. “ _Somebody_ has to help carry you up to your room. We can’t leave poor Ken to do it himself.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Yamato reminds his best friend. He’s in the driver’s seat, body twisted around to shoot Taichi a frown. Sora is seated beside him in the passenger’s seat and smiles over her shoulder at the two before waving to Takeru in hello.

Taichi ignores him and Takeru laughs before giving his brother and Sora a shy wave. Yamato rolls his eyes, but smiles back.

Taichi leans down and gives Takeru’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “It’s good to see you,” he says. Then in a softer tone and a discrete nod to Yamato. “I’m glad he finally came around.”

His eyes dart over to his brother before returning to the brunette. “Mm. I hear I have you to thank for that.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Taichi admits, looking pointedly over his shoulder, and Takeru follows his stare to Ken. Ken who is speaking to the orderly about how they should be settling Takeru safely into the van.

“He and Daisuke gave me the green light to really get into it with Yamato,” Taichi explains.

“Oh,” Takeru breathes out, still staring, and Ken eventually catches on to the attention and self-consciously pats his face and then his clothes.

“What? Do I have something…?”

Takeru shakes his head. “No. Just. Um. C’mere for a sec.”

Ken does so and bends down when beckoned. Takeru presses his lips to his in a light, chaste kiss that has Ken blinking at him in puzzlement. Takeru beams and Ken can’t help but smile in return.

“Let’s go home,” Takeru says, and after a beat, Ken taps his nose once in amusement and replies fondly.

“Let’s go home.”

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not how I imagined this story would end when I first starting writing this months ago. I'm uncertain if there will be another full story following this as I don't think I have it in me to write another one. Still, I don't like leaving it on an unhappy note. If nothing else, there may be an epilogue to this story to close out this universe. Thanks to those who have read, and I hope you enjoyed it!


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